Hide and Seek
by Bellum Gerere
Summary: Jessamine leaves Dunwall Tower, and Corvo is tasked with finding her. He stumbles upon more than he bargained for.


_i've been writing this for like half a year so idk what to even say anymore lol. i've been really enjoying the whole modern-au concept and i might do more with it, but i also have a million other wips so this is going to stay a one-shot for now. it's named after a song by holly henry, which yall should really listen to because it heavily inspired the tone of this -bel_

**Hide and Seek**

_Do you feel half-dead?__  
__Or am I just too in my head?__  
__Tell me that I'm not weak__  
__My life's free__  
__Not hide-and-seek_

_\- Holly Henry_

On the first day of the Month of Rain, future empress Jessamine Kaldwin left Dunwall Tower alone and didn't come back.

It wasn't unusual for her to make excursions into the city—it wasn't even outside the norm for her not to take Corvo with her, though they'd both agreed it was for the best if no one else knew about that. But she was always back in the morning; she always gave herself enough time to sleep, so she wouldn't look tired and no one would think she'd been anywhere but in her bed. On nights she ventured out alone, Corvo would wait up for messages from her, itching to leave the Tower and go find her. A few times, he'd done exactly that, though he trusted her to make her own decisions. She'd told him, once, that if she was ever caught out without him, she'd take the fall for it. The most punishment she would get for it would be a severe scolding from her father. If it were pinned on Corvo, who knew what they would do to him.

It would look very bad if, before she'd even ascended, the future Lord Protector lost the Empress.

~oOo~

Emperor Euhorn Jacob Kaldwin summoned Corvo to his office the next morning, and he went dutifully, feeling like his heart had dropped so low it left his body completely. It was difficult to breathe. At first, he couldn't decide which frightened him more—the very real chance that he might be removed from his position and sent back to Serkonos, or even the slightest possibility that Jessamine was hurt in some manner. The way that idea twisted his stomach into knots gave him his answer. He hadn't thought much of her when she'd first chosen him as her Royal Protector—he hadn't known her well enough to—but over the years they'd spent practically glued at the hip, he'd grown to care for her, and he sensed that the feeling was mutual. There were plenty of things he knew about Jessamine that no one else did, and in a position like hers it was hard to keep secrets. Those things meant something to him.

When he entered the Emperor's office and guards closed the door behind him, Euhorn didn't look particularly upset. Corvo knew better than to take that as a good thing, though. He would have been taught his entire life to keep on a neutral expression, even if things were angering or frustrating him. Jessamine had been taught that, too, though she wasn't quite as good at it yet. Euhorn motioned for Corvo to sit and he did, somewhat reluctantly. He flattened his hands on his thighs, trying to alleviate some of the tension he felt.

"Corvo," the Emperor said, and he nodded in acknowledgement. His mouth was far too dry for him to speak. "I'm sure you already know why you've been called here."

Another nod. This time he cleared his throat and responded as best he could. "No one's heard anything from her?"

Euhorn's brow furrowed, and he turned away from Corvo only to begin pacing in the space behind his desk. It was a familiar habit, one Jessamine had inherited. Corvo had told her on many occasions that she would wear a hole through the floor if she kept it up, and it always earned him a laugh, even though it was usually an exasperated one. Seeing Euhorn do it made all the worry he had for her surge anew in his mind. He gripped his legs tighter.

"If anyone had heard from her, we assumed it would be you." Though he wasn't looking directly at him, Corvo felt his gaze all the same, weighing heavy on his shoulders. "She trusts you more than most. More than anyone, perhaps."

Was he imagining it, or was that pain he heard in the Emperor's voice? Corvo knew that he and Jessamine had not been quite so close since the death of her mother, but she hadn't seemed worse off for it, or hadn't let on if she was. He'd assumed Euhorn felt the same, if he'd even realized what was happening. Corvo couldn't remember a single time he'd seen the man relax.

"We're trusting you to find her." If there had been any vulnerability there a moment ago, it was gone, and Euhorn halted his pacing, leaning over and placing his hands on the desk. Though there were still several feet between them, Corvo felt just as nervous as he would have had there been no desk between them, had they been standing face-to-face. "She can't have gone far, not on her own. It shouldn't take you long to track her down." A million unspoken doubts hung in the air above the desk. Corvo couldn't bring himself to voice them, and he knew Euhorn wouldn't.

"Of course, you'll have the aid of the Royal Spymaster, should you need it." Corvo knew the Spymaster, a man with a ratlike face who could often be found glaring at Corvo whenever they were in the general vicinity of each other. Corvo tried to avoid him as much as possible (and he had a feeling Jessamine did as well), but he reluctantly admitted to himself that his help could be useful. Much as he hated to even consider the possibility, he might have no other choice but to track Jessamine's phone to see where she'd gone. "But if you know of anywhere she might be…well, you don't need my permission to go looking."

Corvo nodded again and stood, taking that as his cue to leave. Euhorn couldn't possibly want to waste any time talking that he might be using to look for Jessamine. He was across the room and had his hand on the doorknob when he heard his name and paused, turning back around. The Emperor wasn't looking at him—his eyes were on some of the papers laying on the desk, between his splayed hands—but the words were surely directed at him.

"Bring her home safe."

~oOo~

Corvo spent the rest of the day wandering the streets of Dunwall, checking every place he could possibly remember visiting with Jessamine, anywhere she might've thought to go. She didn't turn up at any of them, and as the sun began to set he was finally forced to concede that a visit to Hiram Burrows would, in fact, be helpful. He'd probably assigned someone to track down her phone already, he thought, and when he arrived at the office of the Royal Spymaster, he was pleasantly surprised to discover that he was right. He hated having to resort to what felt like such a disrespectful invasion of Jessamine's privacy, but the sooner he found her, the better, and besides, the fact that Burrows already knew where she was meant Corvo barely had to spend any time with the man, which was fine by him.

According to the Spymaster, Jessamine was at a hotel down by the docks—he'd even been able to pinpoint her room number, which he scribbled down on a piece of paper, along with the address, before all but shoving Corvo out of the room. Paper in hand, he made his way to Jessamine's room and gathered a bag of things for her—a change of clothes, soap, first aid supplies, bottles of water. Since he didn't even know why she'd left in the first place, he thought it safest to assume the worst, though his mind actively rebelled against it. When he was finished there, he took one of the cars in the Tower's massive garage (an armored one, just in case) and drove to the address Burrows had given him.

It wasn't much, he thought as he got out of the car and slung the bag over his shoulder, and to say that much was probably an overstatement. Like many of the buildings closer to the docks, it had definitely seen better days. He took the stairs outside to the room number on the paper, 212, and knocked gently on the door, praying to whoever would listen that Jessamine was there, unharmed.

After a moment without a response, he leaned in closer to the door, trying to listen for signs that the room was occupied while his eyes flicked to the drawn curtains beside the door. Well, there was definitely somebody in there—there was clearly a lamp on inside, and he could hear soft footsteps, growing closer to the door, then stopping. He knocked again, louder, and briefly considered trying to look in through the peephole, but discarded the idea. Knowing Jessamine, she was already staring through the other side.

He was just coming to the conclusion that he should try to call her when he heard the sound of the locks being undone on the other side of the door, and it opened a second later, though the chain was still on it. Whoever was in there was standing behind the door, so all he could see was a glimpse of the room inside—a single, large bed that had clearly been slept in, and a familiar black bag on the floor.

"Corvo?" a voice said from inside, and he was so relieved that for a moment he worried he might collapse. Instead he gripped the door frame tightly, trying to keep himself upright. Part of him had worried, though he'd tried not to think about it, that Burrows had been wrong; that maybe Jessamine's phone had been there, but not Jessamine herself. In that moment, her voice was the most wonderful sound he'd ever heard.

"Yes," he choked out, "it's me," and for a brief moment the door closed in his face as she undid the chain keeping him from entering. When she opened it again, the gap was just wide enough for him to slip through, which he did quickly. The only reason she would have gone to a place like this was if she didn't want anyone to see her, and he didn't want to compromise that by being seen himself.

Jessamine shut the door again behind him, and as she was redoing the locks he took the time to look at her, as closely as he could. She looked tired; she hadn't bothered to put on any makeup (something she normally went to great pains to do, considering how much time she spent in the public eye) and as a result, the dark circles that were usually hidden instead stood out against the paleness of her skin. Likewise, her nails were unpainted, and her hair was pinned up looser and more messily than usual. The grey cardigan she was wearing over a black tank top and leggings was several sizes too large for her, and she'd pushed the sleeves halfway up her arms to compensate. He wasn't sure where she'd gotten it; he didn't think he'd ever seen it on her before.

"I was wondering how long it would take someone to come looking for me," she said quietly, smiling a little, though it didn't reach her eyes. "I was wondering whether it would be you."

Corvo couldn't think of anything to say. He sat down on the edge of the bed, the worry and tension finally releasing him from their grip, leaving him feeling boneless. Jessamine still hovered by the door, looking over at him uncertainly. He couldn't even tell whether or not she was glad to see him—the thought stung more than it should have.

She sighed, twisting her fingers together, sucking her bottom lip in before releasing it. "I hoped it would be you," she admitted, and another fraction of his tension eased away.

"I wouldn't have let anyone else look," he said, his voice slightly hoarse from a combination of relief and disuse. He rarely spoke to anyone unless he was required to, though Jessamine was more familiar with the sound of his voice than anyone else in Dunwall. She stepped away from the door and towards the bed, though she still made sure to keep some space between them. Her arms were crossed tightly around her torso.

"You mean that?" she asked, and he nodded in reply. Something flitted across her face, some emotion he couldn't place, and then she smiled again, fully. The sight made him smile back, though he was sure it looked more like a grimace on his worried face. Physically, she appeared to be fine, and that helped calm him, but he still didn't know why she'd left, or if there was something else going on that she hadn't told him about. He found that hard to believe. She told him nearly everything.

"I—" He was at a loss. He was no stranger to Jessamine running off, to having to track her down, but up until now her escapades had been confined to the Tower. She'd been too nervous outside its walls to leave Corvo's side. It scared him to not know what had changed. "Jessamine, are you okay?"

"I'm fine." He wasn't convinced, and he must have looked it, because she sighed and crossed the room to sit next to him on the edge of the bed. She left a couple feet of space between them, and when she spoke she looked down, tugging on the sleeves of her sweater. "Physically, I'm fine."

"Okay." So nothing had hurt her—that, at least, was some comfort, though something must have happened in the tower, some confrontation, that made her feel like she couldn't stay there anymore, or didn't want to. "Mind elaborating on that?"

Jessamine stared at a vase of fake flowers on the table across from the bed, and he stared at her. With her head turned away from him, edged in the soft glow of the single lamp, she looked remarkably like her mother. Corvo hadn't known the woman for very long, but he'd been Jessamine's protector for a year when she died. Sometimes, when he'd been around her and Euhorn both, he'd see the Emperor flinch at something Jessamine said, or something she did, like she reminded him too much of his wife. The resemblance had never struck Corvo as much as it did now—she seemed like she'd aged years in the few months since she turned eighteen, like it wasn't until then that she truly felt the impending weight of the Empire, hovering over her shoulders.

"It's stupid, isn't it?" she asked hollowly, running her thumbs over the edges of her sweater, which she'd pulled as far down on her thighs as it would go. "I've had years to get used to the idea. To accept that it's going to be me."

Ruling the empire, she meant. There had been a time, when her mother had been alive and expecting another child, that Jessamine had confessed to him that she hoped for a brother, because it meant she would be moved to the back of the line of succession, thanks to old-fashioned laws that no one had bothered to change. If she was lucky, she could be involved in assuring the well-being of the Empire without ever directly having to take the throne. Those hopes had been dashed only months later, and he'd never heard her say anything more on it, until now.

"I've made my peace with that." One hand reached up to rub at the side of her neck. Jessamine had a surprising number of nervous tells. Her father had told her time and time again that it was something she'd have to learn to tamper down if she was to become Empress. Corvo doubted he even knew about all of them; Jessamine had begun shadowing him at meetings when she turned eighteen, and that was the most time they'd spent with each other in years. "There's no room to be nervous anymore, not when I know it's going to be me."

He questioned the sincerity of that statement—she certainly looked like she had room to be nervous—but he knew better than to interrupt her when she was trying to figure out how to say something. She'd told him off many times for it before, though always kindly. There had never been a time she'd been unkind to him; in his presence, perhaps, but not to him. "I just—" she began, then cut herself off, shaking her head. "You'll think it's stupid."

"Will I?"

He lifted his eyebrow just a bit, enough for her to see it, even though she wasn't looking directly at him. She smiled, laughed a little. "Maybe not."

She pulled one of her legs up onto the bed, tucking it underneath her, and turned to him. When she spoke, she leaned forward a little, like she was entreating him to take her seriously. She must've known by now that he would. "It's—I overheard some of the men in Parliament talking a few days ago. About me." She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. Another nervous habit. Jessamine had always been expressive. "They were saying I should already be thinking about marriage. How I can use it as a way to make alliances, how it'll….help legitimize me, I suppose."

It wasn't what he was expecting her to say, but now that the idea had been presented to him, he realized he'd never heard her talk about it or bring it up on her own outside of this conversation. It had seemed so far away, and she'd been so disinterested in it, that even when it was mentioned in passing by her father or one of his advisors, Corvo immediately put it out of his mind. He'd assumed she did, too. "Jess, you shouldn't listen to anything they say. Some of those members of Parliament…"

"I know." She smiled at the nickname. He could remember a time when he'd been afraid to refer to her as anything other than Lady Jessamine, even when she first began telling him to stop. Now, it felt like second nature. "But it's hard not to think about something like that. They barely even waited three months to start talking about it. I'm afraid to ask my father if anyone's brought it up."

He waited. There had to be more to this—certainly it hadn't just been some overheard gossip that had upset her so much she'd left the Tower entirely. A few moments later, his patience was rewarded. "It's just so stupid!" she exclaimed. "I won't ascend for years—maybe even decades—and here these people are, already talking about how I'll rule, as if they expect me to take the throne tomorrow! And they act like when I do, they'll still all be right there, getting into my head, making me do what they want. But what if I don't want to?"

She paused her rant, slightly breathless, her eyes shining, face red with pent-up anger. She never would have dared to say these things at the Tower, not even to Corvo, not even in the room she'd shown him years ago, the one he was certain only the two of them and the Emperor knew about. "I couldn't stay there," she said, softer. "I needed some time to myself."

Corvo reached over and placed his hand over one of hers, resting between them on the mattress. There was a time he would've balked at the physical contact, and it still wasn't something they ever did in public—the fact that Jessamine often went out with only him for company had already sparked enough rumors—but as the years wore on and they spent more time together, the walls between them started to come down. At this point, since he spoke to others so rarely, it was easy to believe that she was his only true friend in the Tower—in the whole city.

When she'd first named him Royal Protector, he'd been worried, afraid to find out her motives. The people whispering about it when he passed seemed to think it was just to cause a fuss; he was young, and from Serkonos, no less (the Dunwall nobility seemed to focus annoyingly on that fact), and that had to be the only reason Lady Jessamine would choose such a man to watch over her constantly. But she'd never acted like that. No one else treated him quite like she did: as a friend, not just a guard. It only made him want to look after her more diligently, and to see her like this hurt him more than he wanted to admit.

"I know I should've told someone before I left," she continued, looking up at him. The tears in her eyes threatened to spill over, and he had the strong, sudden urge to run his thumb over her cheekbone to catch them if they did. The thought startled him so much that what his fingers actually did was dig into his leg, to keep them from moving. "But I knew that if I did, they'd insist on sending someone with me, no matter who I told. And I wanted to be alone."

She ducked her head down again, redness creeping up her neck. In the seven years they'd been spending nearly every waking moment together, he'd never seen her look so lost, so uncertain, about anything, even the smallest things. It was disconcerting; it made her someone else, not Jessamine, the future Empress, decisive in all matters even when she didn't like having to be. "I suppose….I wouldn't have minded if you'd come with me, though," she whispered, so low he'd practically had to hold his breath to be able to hear her. "And I'm glad you're here now."

Something in him twisted into a knot to hear her say that so sincerely. He almost wanted to ask her if it was really true, if she would've brought him with her if she felt like she had the option, but the way she was looking at him made it difficult to think, and he didn't want to make her any more upset than she already was. She'd never lied to him before, anyway. He had no reason to believe that she would start now.

"You know…" he began, then paused and cleared his throat. He'd never been good with words, even less so when he needed to make them count. He knew Jessamine wouldn't fault him for misspeaking, but he didn't want her to think for even a second that he was upset about anything other than her pain. "I would've gone. If you asked." Another pause. He slowly relaxed his hand, easing the pressure from where he'd been gripping his leg. "If you need to get away in the future, I'll take you. You just have to tell me."

The smile that crept onto her lips was wavering at best, but it was there, and he was glad to see it. She rested one hand flat on the side of her neck, slipping underneath some strands of hair that had fallen loose from where she'd pinned it back messily. "Thank you, Corvo."

He could only nod in response. His throat had closed up around anything he might've tried to say. Words were useless, anyway—what were they compared to the sight of her face, the nervousness slowly filtering out of her expression and leaving only tentative peace behind? But it wasn't completely gone; there was still something there, and soon enough she bit her lip and spoke again. "I don't suppose—that is, if you wouldn't mind—perhaps we could stay here until tomorrow?"

Corvo blinked a few times in surprise. He shouldn't have been shocked that she wanted some more time out of the Tower; now more than ever, she was starting to feel the true pressure associated with being the sole heir to the throne, and it was more than understandable that she'd want to get away from that. But for her to ask so brazenly, and to include him in that time…well. It shouldn't have come as a shock. But it did.

She would have been able to read the indecision on his face clear as day, because she laughed quietly and shifted on the bed, bringing herself a few inches closer to him. "I can't go back right now," she said patiently, as if she owed him this explanation. "And now that you're here, with me, they'll know I'm safe, right? So things will be fine."

A thousand thoughts flitted through his mind faster than he could grasp at any of them, ranging from sensible (I'll lose my job, and that's only if the Emperor is feeling generous) to completely ridiculous (there's only one bed). Every thread of those thoughts was cut short, though, when she reached forward and took his hand in her own. Her fingers were startlingly warm.

"If you're worried about my father, don't be," she said. "He might not be happy about it, but he can't do anything to you without going through me. Emperor or no."

He frowned at the implications of her statement, spoken with such surety. "Jess, you shouldn't have to do that for me."

"I want to," she replied airily, as if that settled the matter. "Besides, it was my choice to name you my Royal Protector in the first place. If he'd truly had that much of a problem with it, he had his chance to say something about it seven years ago."

She said it with such calm certainty that Corvo suddenly felt the urge to laugh. If only things were that simple. Jessamine had chosen him, yes, but if Euhorn decided that Corvo wasn't fulfilling his duties, he could un-choose him just as easily, he was certain, no matter what she thought of it. Until she was Empress—and he hoped she wouldn't be for a very long time, for her sake—the threat of being pulled away from her would hang over his head.

He wanted to voice the concern, but she was looking at him in a way that made it nearly impossible for him to disagree with her. He nodded again. "We can stay. But if anyone back at the Tower tries to contact me, I'll have to tell them where we are."

She looked disappointed at that, but she didn't protest. They sat there for a moment, motionless, until she realized she was still holding his hand, and pulled back suddenly. "I—I'll be right back," she said, standing, pink staining her cheeks. She walked into the small attached bathroom and shut the door behind her. He heard the faucet turn on, and then what he thought must be her splashing water on her face, trying to calm herself down.

While she was out, he took a minute to look around the room, double checking that there was no evidence of any kind of struggle, that she was truly there for no other reason than that she wanted to be. Things looked almost worryingly normal; she'd brought a small duffel bag, and it was tucked away next to one of the nightstands on either side of the bed, which itself had clearly been slept in. Everything seemed fine.

The bathroom door opened and he turned around just as she emerged, the strands of hair framing her face slightly damp from the water. She smiled unguardedly when she saw him sitting there, and walked over so she was standing in front of him, pulling the oversized cardigan tighter around her torso. "Corvo?" she asked softly. He looked up at her, not daring to speak. A drop of water she'd missed when drying her face slid down the side of it and dripped off her jaw. If he hadn't watched it, he would've been afraid she'd been crying. "Thank you."

He was about to say that it was nothing, that he'd have done it no matter how he felt about it, just to make sure she was okay, but she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his shoulders and he couldn't breathe from the nearness of her. After a brief hesitation, he lifted his own arms, allowed himself to rest his hands gently on her back. This was nothing new. They'd hugged before. But they had never been quite so close, or quite so alone, and she'd never pressed her face into the crook of his neck so that he could feel her breath, the flutter of her eyelashes against his skin. They had never held each other long enough for him to be able to pick out the steady beat of her pulse under his fingers.

But it had to end eventually, and when she lifted her head and began to pull back, he dropped his arms immediately, worried that she might've wanted to do that earlier but simply didn't for his sake. She paused, though, when her face was only inches away from his, and he found himself trapped in the wideness, the sincerity of her storm-blue eyes. And just when he thought he wouldn't be able to take it anymore, she leaned forward and kissed him.

He would be lying if he said he hadn't thought about it before, in recent months, when he'd had to start following her to her father's meetings and he realized that, for all she worried about it, she would make a good Empress. It was obvious to him, how much she'd grown since he met her, not just physically aging but emotionally as well. He'd been around when her mother died, he'd seen how she reacted when the burden of being the only heir had been dropped on her shoulders without warning, and she'd risen to bear it with ease. She had become someone capable, strong, graceful even. And he had noticed.

But never in his wildest dreams (though he hadn't let them stray far) did he imagine it would actually be happening, that she'd seen something similar in him. A thought struck him suddenly, and he pulled back, leaving her blinking in surprise. Was it possible, though he'd tried so hard the past few months to keep it hidden, that she'd realized how he felt, and thought that acting on his feelings would be some sort of…compensation…for what he was doing for her now? The idea made him sick, and it took him a moment before he could swallow the lump in his throat enough to speak.

"Jess—Jessamine, I—you don't have to—"

She watched him stutter with the ghost of a smile playing across her lips. His hands were resting on the bed on either side of him, but he wanted so desperately to hold her, reassure her that it wouldn't upset him for her to reject advances he hadn't even known he'd made. He was certain all of this was playing across his face, and she let it, but when it became clear he wasn't going to say more, she sighed, the sound very nearly a laugh.

"Corvo," she said, and the sound of his own name had never been so wonderful to him; no one had ever said it quite like that. "I want to."

And he didn't even have time to try and process what that meant when she was pressing her soft lips back against his, and this time he couldn't pretend he didn't want it; she'd torn down all his defenses with a few simple words. Were they in the Tower, he would have never let her do this, no matter how badly he wanted it—how badly she did, if she was to be believed, and she'd never once lied to him. But here, away from prying eyes and rumors and responsibilities…surely they could allow themselves a little time.

~oOo~

When Corvo woke, he couldn't remember where he was at first. The last thing he could recall with any certainty was his meeting with the Emperor the previous day, and it had him sitting bolt upright in bed, panic blooming in his chest at the thought that Jessamine might still be missing. But as his sleep-clouded vision cleared and he took in his surroundings, the events of the night started to come back to him. The hotel on the edge of the city. Jessamine, looking lost and alone but still so happy to see him that it made him ache. And after all that—after he'd made sure she was okay—

He snapped his head to the side. Surely enough, she was there on the bed next to him, laying on her stomach, still asleep. The blankets were only pulled up to the small of her back, and the sunlight shining through the curtains made patterns on her skin that he was struck with the sudden, strong desire to trace. His hand had already been outstretched to do it when he remembered himself and stopped. All of a sudden, his recollections came back to him in a flood, and he felt oddly as though he were going to be sick.

By the Void, he'd slept with the future Empress. And, if his memory was to be trusted, she'd liked it.

Before the thought was even finished he was already out of the bed, scanning the floor frantically and trying to figure out which pieces of clothing were his. If anyone else knew—if anyone had seen them, somehow, he could lose his position, or worse. And that wasn't even taking into account what would happen to Jessamine, the rumors that would follow her around for the rest of her life and the entirety of her reign, and he still wasn't quite able to convince himself that she'd actually wanted this, and—

"Corvo." He turned sharply and though she hadn't moved, her eyes were open, and she was staring at him, a smile playing across her lips. "I can practically hear you worrying from here."

"Sorry." He wasn't exactly sure what he was apologizing for, but that seemed to be enough for her, because she turned onto her back and stretched—and he forced himself to look away, he didn't want her to be uncomfortable for even one second because he was staring—before sitting up, pulling the blankets up against her chest, grinning.

"You don't have to be." She draped her arms over her knees and rested her head on them, watching as he continued to dress, if for no other reason than to have something to do with his hands. "I didn't do anything I didn't want to." Several of her fingers wrapped around a loose strand in the comforter, not pulling it, just holding. Among their surroundings, her signet looked almost laughably out of place. "I wonder if that's true for you, though," she said quietly.

Something inside his chest pulled tight at her words, at the sudden uncertainty of her expression, though she hadn't moved. He finished doing up the buttons on his shirt and crawled back onto the bed next to her. After a moment's hesitation, he rested his hand on her bare shoulder, stroking his thumb over her warm, soft skin.

"It is." He locked eyes with her and didn't look away, and his hand slid up into her hair, then back down. If there was anything more he could do so that she wouldn't doubt the sincerity of his words, he'd do it, but this was all he could think of. "Jess, please don't ever think otherwise."

The expression on her face was somewhere between surprise and relief, and as he looked at her he was filled with such an overwhelming fondness that it nearly hurt. "Oh," she said, and she was clearly trying to hold back a smile, but she soon abandoned the idea and leaned forward instead. She kissed him, and he returned it just as eagerly, and something in him cracked open as he wound his fingers through her hair. He felt her smile against his lips and for a moment, he could let himself believe that everything would be fine. That this would have no consequences outside of their newfound relationship, whatever it was.

Then he heard his phone ring from inside his coat pocket, and he was sent plummeting back to reality.

"It's been doing that all morning," Jessamine said as he untangled himself from her and stood to answer it. "I'm surprised it didn't wake you up. You're a heavy sleeper, Corvo."

He spared a glance in her direction as he fished it out from his coat, and she looked amused. She had wanted what happened. She wasn't angry at him. He would just have to remember those things, and he would be fine, wouldn't drown in his own hapless panic.

"Hello?"

He was nearly certain he knew who would be on the other end, but still he held his breath until he heard the Emperor's voice say "Corvo?" and he exhaled in nervous relief. Euhorn wouldn't be thrilled to learn that he'd found her the night before and hadn't immediately brought her back home, but Jessamine would be able to talk her way out of that one. Better him than Hiram Burrows, anyway. The Emperor at least had some respect for him.

"Yes." He cleared his throat, looking over as Jessamine climbed out of the bed and slowly started to pull her clothes back on. She kept sneaking glances over at him, as though he wouldn't notice. He found it oddly endearing. "I—I've got Jessamine, Your Majesty. She's right here."

"Good, good." The Emperor sighed. Corvo could picture him sitting at his desk, one elbow up on it as he pressed the phone to his ear, the fingers of the other hand massaging his temples. It was a posture he adopted when stressed, one Jessamine had learned as well, though she didn't look quite so severe when she did it. She had a gentleness about her that she'd never quite managed to tame, despite all her efforts at it, despite countless attempts by others to instruct her on looking austere. "How long did it take you to find her?"

"Not long," he admitted, hoping the guilt wasn't evident in his voice. If anyone were to find out what had happened in the past twelve hours, he'd lose his position, or worse—but he wasn't as concerned about that as he was about Jessamine's reputation. "She was where the Spymaster said she'd be. I'll return with her within the hour."

When she heard him say that, Jessamine looked up at him with a grimace on her face, and he frowned apologetically in return. He knew she had been trying to stay out of the tower for as long as possible, but now that he'd told the Emperor exactly where to find them, any privacy they might have had wouldn't last much longer. The line went silent, and Corvo fought the urge to start providing an explanation for why it had taken them so long to return. There wasn't a satisfactory one—questions would be raised no matter what he said, and he knew that many people's assumptions would be uncomfortably close to the truth. Better to give as little information as he could get away with.

"Good, good." If Euhorn was suspicious, he didn't let on. It should have given him a sense of relief, but instead all he felt was a vague, creeping dread. There would be nothing to stop him from interrogating Corvo more fully when Jessamine wasn't around to hear. "Should I send someone to retrieve you?"

"No." He replied so quickly that he feared it sounded off, and if the long pause before Euhorn bid him return quickly and hung up was any indication, it had. Even if that hadn't clued him in, the look Jessamine was giving him certainly would have—she was clearly trying not to laugh. "What?"

Her grin widened as she started to fold her clothes back into the small duffel she'd packed. "For someone who's usually so stoic, you really don't do panicking by halves."

He wanted to be able to see the humor in the situation like she did; he was sure he must've looked ridiculous trying to reassure the Emperor that nothing was wrong, and it wasn't her laughter that bothered him. It wasn't even what had happened, though that certainly presented several challenges—namely, that it would be for the best if it didn't happen again. But he didn't think Jessamine wanted that, and if he was being honest with himself, he didn't either. "This—"

"Is fine," she interjected, zipping the bag closed and slinging it over her shoulder. She strode over to the window and pulled the curtains just far enough to the side to ensure no one would be watching them leave, and then, as an additional precaution, pulled out the tie she'd hastily put in her hair and let it fall loose around her shoulders. She was still the most recognizable person in the Empire, but that would help. "Everything will be fine. And so help me, if you even begin to express even the slightest bit of regret…"

She let the empty threat trail off, made all the less serious by the grin that still pulled at the corner of her lips. He couldn't help but return it, as much as he could given the circumstances. He had always been vulnerable to her happiness; that much wouldn't change. "One day you're going to regret not listening to me," he poked back, straightening his own hastily-thrown-on clothes before he performed a similar check out the window. Jessamine stood by the door, rocking back and forth on her heels, surprisingly eager to get back into the world she'd been only too ready to escape.

Once he'd decided that the parking lot was suitably empty, he nodded at Jessamine, and she opened the door. She didn't wait for him, choosing instead to run ahead and take the stairs down at a dangerously fast pace. Even with all the training he did on a regular basis, he was hard-pressed to keep up with her. "Corvo," she said, her voice echoing in the stairwell as she laughed openly, "when have I ever listened to anyone?"

_idk why but i really like to think of young jessamine as being a bit Rebellious? like she's very much not interested in doing what other people tell her, for the most part_

_anyway i'm on tumblr yennas if anyone wants to Cry about corvojess lmao_


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